A Memory of Leaves
by LilyKotsu
Summary: Everyone in Crime Sorciere remembers their names, family, and where they came from... everyone has memories, everyone except for their resident dragon. But when Cobra's earliest memories might be the key to stopping another dark mage disaster in Fiore, his reluctance to recall his repressed past might prove more than his guildmates are prepared to handle.
**A/N:** Headcanons galore and a few minor OC's later on the move on the plot!

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 **Chapter One: Break Fast**

The expanded Crime Sorciere was really starting to come together as a guild, Meredy thought.

They might not have had a big cool castle like the former Oracion Seis once had, or an airship like Grimoire Heart, or a floating fortress like Tartaros... Where was she going with that thought? The pink-haired young woman deflated slightly. A large, old cabin in the woods was hardly a castle... even if there was enough room for each of them, pending their "home improvements".

Everyone seemed to be warming up just fine, they were even starting to be on real name basis - except for Cobra. Even after the rest of the Demon Generals had begrudgingly taken their birth names back up half the time - he still insisted on being called Cobra. His thick lips would curl back in a fanged, sneering expression whenever Jellal reminded him that his name was ever Erik.

"Shut the fuck up, Jellybeans," the redhead lowly growled into his cup of fruity tea. Violet eyes blearily watched the blue-haired man from the other end of the rickety wooden table. With his darker features and venomous attitude, Cobra's presence seemed out of place in the white and pastel kitchen. "It's too early for whining."

"It's too early for swearing," Jellal half-groaned, but caught himself before he sounded - what he thought was - too pathetic. "Please, be a little more respectful in the mornings."

Cobra inhaled deeply, as if he were getting ready to shout at Jellal, before his anger melted away and left behind only a smarmy, sarcastic look. He had heard that last thought, obviously, Jellal guessed. " _Please_ , shut the fuck up," he said, enunciating his words so that his fangs were clearly visible in his grin, " _Guildmaste_ r Jellybeans." When Jellal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, Cobra arched his fine brows and smirked in victory. "You get one or the other, not both," he mumbled, taking another sip of his berry tea. He suddenly stopped, his pointed ears perking, as he turned his head to Sorano. "I do _not_ act like a pre-teen who just learned swear words."

"That's because you don't have to _listen_ to _yourself_ , Cobra." Sorano's dry, daring glare from behind her stringy silver hair was enough of a warning for even the dragonslayer to back off. She slumped forwards on the table, exhaustively reaching up and taking the sugar jar from in front of Macbeth.

This was the scene that Meredy had found herself wandering into that morning, like so many other mornings as of late.

"You're all going to be listening to _me_ if you guys start another food fight at the table," Meredy huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "I got stuck cleaning up last time!"

Guilty seemed to flash across all their faces, save for Macbeth - who seemed to have fallen asleep in the chaos with a cup of black tea calmly sitting in his hands - and Sorano - who was probably going to fall asleep face-down on the table at any moment.

Yes, Crime Sorciere was really starting to come together as a guild.

When they weren't trying to kill each other, that was.

But from everything Meredy knew about real families - books, movies, LV shows - that's what they did, right? Argue and fight and get on each other's nerves... but it was because they all cared ab-

"Pinkie Pie, you watch too many movies," Cobra groaned.

Immediately all the faces at the table looked to him, then to her. Except for Midnight, who Meredy had been right pegging him as being asleep.

"Well, you're not saying I'm wrong," Meredy pointed out. She was wary of getting into verbal confrontations with Cobra, who always seemed ready to strike at anyone for the smallest thing.

"What are you not wrong about?" Jellal asked.

Ginger curls bounced as the largest member of the guild excitedly clapped his hands. "Is it about LOVE~?" Richard loudly and proudly chimed in.  
"No-" Cobra started, but Meredy quickly interrupted him.

"Yes," she insisted. Meredy paused, pouting in thought for a split second. "Well, sort of. I just like how things with all of us have been going lately is all."

"Oh, FAMILIAL LOVE!" Richard happily boomed, reaching out and hooking a thick arm around Jellal on one side, and then somehow managing to catch Sawyer on the other. "It's a wonderful thing, familial bonds!"

"Richard, I can't breathe!" Jellal grappled at the arm that clung to him.

"Hoteye, fuck off this early in the morning!" Sawyer shouted, doing much of the same.

"You see? Though we are not blood family, we grew up together and so we have FAMILY LOVE! Do not think it is so strange to think of it, young Meredy!"  
Meredy cracked a smile and tried to contain a laugh. "Maybe you should save some of that love later, Richie?"

"NONSENSE!" Richard puffed up with both Jellal and Sawyer still in his arms, much like a child who had been told he had to put down his favorite stuffed animals. "Why, if my younger brother were here right NOW I would NEVER let him go, and so I know he would not mind if I shared my feelings with my ADOPTIVE BROTHERS!"

Sawyer kicked and squirmed and managed to point one finger at their Guildmaster. "JELLAL IS TURNING _BLUER THAN HIS HAIR!_ "

"Ugh, my mother would never have tolerated this kind of shit from me and my sister at the breakfast table," Sorano growled, finally managing to prop herself up with one elbow. "And neither will I. Richard, put them down until _after_ I've had my coffee!"

In the excitement of Richard's polygonal bear hugs, Jellal nearly going unconscious, and Macbeth almost slumping over into a small stack of pancakes - no one seemed to notice Cobra slide back from the table. With stiffening shoulders he sunk back into his chair, as if it would make him invisible to all that was going, then silently rose from the table before making his way out of the kitchen. The sound of the front screen door almost being slammed shut was the only indication that he had left the house; and by the time Meredy had pieced together that he had been the one who'd left, it was too late to go after him to ask him what was suddenly so urgent.

"At least he used the door this time," Macbeth mumbled as he roused from his sleep.

Meredy glanced at the others at the table, still trying to pry Richard out of Hug Mode, before looking back to Midnight. "Where'd he go?" she asked the mage whose face was clad in what was left of the previous day's ungodly amount of eyeliner.

"He's having another hissy fit." He idly yawned, frowning at his reflection in his now-cold tea. "Who knows where he goes."


End file.
